[We're in an old boxing gym. A trainer is shouting orders to a young man doing bumps in the ring.]

Trainer: [translated from spanish]

"Again... "

[SLAM.]

Trainer: [translated from spanish]

"Fuckin' do it again... [mumbling in english] God damn fat Mexican fuck."

[Long black hair, tattoos, long unkempt beard... a cane.]

Student: [translated from spanish]

"Mr. Hurley, how many times you goin' to make us do this shit?"

[Evan Hurley. Former professional wrestler, current penniless crippled drunk.]

Evan Hurley: [translated from spanish]

"Until you can show me you're not an fat uncoordinated little beaner."

[The outspoken student mumbles a few obscenities under his breath.]

Student: [translated from spanish]

"This is bull man, how long?"

Evan Hurley: [translated from spanish]

"'You bump 'til your ass bleeds, you hear me?"

[Hurley starts towards the office just off the ring area. Once in the door he stops cold in his tracks... he has a visitor.]

Visitor:

"Evan, lad... you got fat."

[Sheered head, finely tailored pinstripe suit, a pair of dark wire frame sunglasses perched right above a freshly waxed handlebar mustache.]

Bronson Box:

"And you're still a cripple. Shame."

[Stoic as a Buckingham Palace guard Hurley slowly closes the door and takes a seat across from his former tag team partner. Propping his cane against his leg Evan takes a deep breath and settles back in his chair.]

Evan Hurley:

"Can I help you with something, superstar?"

[Bronson grins, leans forward and takes off his glasses.]

Bronson Box:

"You know me, sunshine... always busy with something."

[Evan grins.]

Evan Hurley:

"By the looks of things on TV all you're busy with is that stupid red haired cunt that... well, how did you put it back in London 'if I ever see that harlot again I'll rip her damned throat out' something like that? How'd she get her hooks back into you Hollis? Blackmail? Or were you just that fuckin' desperate... "

[Hurley starts to poke Bronson in the groin with his cane... Box grabs the cane and pulls it away with a jerk. Then gets up from his seat, pacing the office.]

Bronson Box:

"Forgot what a mouth you got, lad. I suppose I deserve that. [looking at the cane in his hands] Guess I really did do a number on your back then."

[Hurley chuckles, reaching for a warm flat beer sitting in arms reach on the nearby desk.]

Evan Hurley:

"Yeah.

Guess you did." [he takes a long swig]

[Looking out through the office window Box continues.]

Bronson Box:

"Munoz took pity on you, did he? Gave you a job training this lot?"

[Another swig.]

Evan Hurley:

"Pays the bills."

[Bronson nods, fiddling with the cane still in his hands.]

Bronson Box:

"You, that fat homosexual and the skinny one... what was his name? The one in the duck costume."

[One last swig and a toss, the empty bottle landing in the trash.]

Evan Hurley:

"Walter. Good kid. Talented. To talented for this joint, that's for sure. I think he's out there with that wetback right now."

[Bronson raises his eyebrows in acknowledgment and takes a few moments to watch the young men out in the ring. Walter Levy, while small moves with purpose and clearly knows his craft.]

Bronson Box:

"I'll keep that in mind."

[Evan leans forward and heaves himself from his seat.]

Evan Hurley:

"The fuck are you doing here, Boxer? To rub it in my face?

Or to fuckin' finish the God damn job."

Bronson Box:

"Just here on a short holiday... [smiling] in the neighborhood is all."

[Hurley narrows his eyes.]

Evan Hurley:

"You don't take fuckin' vacations you God damn sociopath."

[Evan reaches for his cane... Box doesn't let go, he just pulls Hurley closer.]

Bronson Box:

"Just wanted some... conformation on somethin' is all. [sizing Evan up before letting go of the cane] I trust your opinion, Evan."

[Bronson puts back on his sunglasses with a smile as he gives Evan a pat on the shoulder.]

Bronson Box:

"You take care, old friend."

[Confused into silence Evan watches Bronson walk out into the gym and taking a moment to study the men in the ring one more time before heading towards the door and out onto the busy streets of Mexico City.]

[Evan breathes a heavy sigh and walks back out into the gym.]

Walter Levy: [to the student]

"Take five man, you're getting better."

[Shaking his head.]

Evan Hurley:

"Don't fuckin' encourage him, he's the drizzling shits."

[Walter just smiles.]

Walter Levy:

"So was I, boss. And thanks to your fine tutelage I'm the world-renowned grappler you see before you."

[Evan rolls his eyes and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, popping on in his mouth and lighting it.]

Evan Hurley:

"Yeah fuckin' yeah. Smart ass."

[Walter looks towards the office.]

Walter Levy:

"So what was that all about, man?"

[Taking a long drag off his cigarette.]

Evan Hurley:

"I'm not sure. But knowin' Boxer...

[Fade.]

it probably 'aint fuckin' good."

[End.]

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